


Think We're Alone Now

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 1980s, Aziraphale still dresses like it's the 50s, Crowley likes punk rock shows and chaos, First Kiss, M/M, Nonbinary Crowley, and dressing like the singer in a hair metal band
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 12:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20045698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Crowley has to admit there is an excitement to the punk rock scene in Los Angeles, CA during the 1980s. They love the fights, the loud music, the booze, and the fashion almost as much as they love Aziraphale.





	Think We're Alone Now

Crowley loved the 1980s. Sin and bad decisions were boundless with and without their Hellish influences, all around them people were making horrid decisions, raising Hell, and causing chaos on their surroundings and on their own bodies. Specifically, Crowley loved the music and the fashion of the time, they had a weakness for the tight black leather pants and the revealing tops. They found themselves often hanging around little bars and venues where punk rock and goth rock bands played shows that in typical fashion turned into brawls between musician and audience halfway through the set. The chaos of it all thrummed in Crowley’s veins.

On this particular night Crowley had been attending a punk show in LA that was quick to escalate into chaos after a rather crude bastard hurled a beer bottle at the bassist hitting him right in the head. The bottle hadn’t knocked him out, just pissed him off; with blood running down over his face the 125-pound bassist with spiked black hair jumped off the stage, bass poised back as if it were a hatchet, and he landed on his assailant. Two security guards worked to pry him off, in less than a minute the drummer had trashed his drum set, the singer thrashed a heckler with his mic, and before Crowley knew it the whole lot of them were fighting. The demon of course had sidled out of the small bar unscathed, nicked a bottle of Jack Daniels from behind the bar while the bartender was preoccupied, and slipped out into the alley through the fire exit.

Out in the cold damp night Crowley leaned back against the opposite wall, drank from the bottle of stolen whiskey then lit up a cigarette. They could still hear the commotion coming from inside, it wasn’t too much longer until Crowley heard the sirens of police cars approaching, coming to round up the drunk and high crowd and spend the rest of their night filling out paperwork and questioning all those involved to sort together just what the Hell happened. Crowley smirked, even if they hadn’t started the fight themselves or influenced it, it had happened, and Crowley could always tell his superiors that they’d had started it. The demon knew of course they would need to cause some actual chaos sooner than later, but this week they felt like taking just a slight vacation.

The demon perked up when he felt a certain shift in the air nearby, coming closer. A smile tugged at the corner of their lips as they turned in time to see Aziraphale starting to pass by the opening of the alley, stopping in his tracks the moment he noticed the demon’s aura. 

“Long time no see.” Crowley greeted loudly, voice echoing in the alley.

The angel turned to face them; he gave a short wave before making his way down the alley. Crowley took another drink from the bottle, they noticed that despite the changing times the angel still dressed as if time itself had stopped somewhere along the 1920s; they couldn’t say they minded the way the other dressed, his style suited him just as well as Crowley’s suited them. He always appeared prim and proper; Crowley imagined he spent too much time in a day grooming himself into perfection when he could just miracle himself into such a state. 

“Was that your doing in there?” He asked nodding towards the building.

Shouts could be heard in the street; they imagined the cops were having a Hell of a time controlling the drunk and disorderly. Crowley chuckled shaking their head, thick red locks of hair falling over their face.

“No, no ‘fraid not. I’m on holiday actually, just taking in a show, and next thing I know-“Crowley made a whacking motion with the now half empty bottle of Jack. “Bassist is clubbing some prick over the head with his instrument, singer is swinging his microphone like it’s a bloody mace” They burst out laughing before taking another long pull from the bottle.

Aziraphale stood with arms crossed over his chest looking less than amused. Crowley never noticed; they only held the bottle out to the other giving it a bit of a shake. “You want a drink?”

“No thank you” He responded curtly.

The demon gave a slight pout before finishing off the bottle and tossing it to the side, it clattered against the concrete not breaking, only cracking. 

“What are you doing in these parts then?” Crowley asked choosing to ignore the annoyed glare on the other’s face.

“My job, there’s been a heightened amount of demonic activity in this city lately, they wanted me to check it out….Then I sensed you and I just assumed.” 

Crowley smirked; they removed their sunglasses pocketing them. Aziraphale held their gaze seeming almost entranced by the demon’s eyes, in a more sober state Crowley might feel anxious about his staring, but right now it didn’t bother the demon.

“Just figured it was me then?”

“Possibly”

“Oh, c’mon angel you know my work when you see it, I cause little bits of mischief and some chaos. Not the shit these people get themselves into, I think they just like sending you on wild….Wild whatever it is chases.” Crowley said giving a wave of their hand, the word for what chased escaped them.

The angel sighed, the momentary look of hurt on his face told the demon he knew that they were potentially right about this. Crowley remembered the way it worked in Heaven; they remembered how in the beginning if you asked questions you were banished right off the back, if you had doubts not for God but your superior angels then you were put on Wall duty or sent to count the grains of sand in the desert until you learned to keep your trap shut. Crowley knew that was why they’d met Aziraphale on the wall that day thousands of years ago, he’d been curious, more curious than an angel should be. 

“You’re a demon you don’t understand how this works, besides I’m not even supposed to be speaking to you.” He said starting to turn away from the other.

Crowley moved to stand in front of him, the demon started to put a hand on his shoulder but stopped themselves midway. Aziraphale glanced at the demon’s hand then up at their face, his featured had softened and there was something in his sky blue eyes that the demon had seen once or twice over the years they’d known one another. 

“Here you are though, in a grungy alley talkin’ my ear off….We could just hang out for a bit, I could buy you a late dinner, anywhere you wanna go.” Crowley offered.

Aziraphale looked around the alley as if expecting for angels to come down at any moment to take him back to be punished for speaking with a demon. This time Crowley did place a hand on his shoulder drawing his attention back to them. 

“C’mon we’ve been doing this since Eden Az….If they suspected anything we’d know.”

Heaven knew all and so did Hell on the right days. Crowley shuddered to think of what they’d do to their friend if Heaven found out about them, about the friendship that bordered into something more. Despite demons being ex-angels they were treated as if they’d never been angels at all, always marked with reptilian or insect like features to separate them from their divine counterparts. Crowley vaguely remembered having eyes of green or perhaps they’d been brown, but they’d been normal none the less. 

“Would we, what if they’re just waiting to catch us? I can’t risk that.” The angel argued, he shoved the demon’s hand away and began walking away again.

Crowley easily caught up with him, once again appearing before him, this time placing a hand against the other’s chest. They could feel the pounding of his heart; their friend was nervous as he usually was when it came to these matters. Crowley glanced back over their shoulder before slowly pushing the other back against a wall hiding them away in the dark where humans couldn’t see them. 

“They don’t suspect a thing; you think I’d put you in danger if I thought they did?” Crowley asked, voice hushed, nearly hurt.

It was ironic being a demon and worrying about hurting somebody’s feelings, being a demon and counting each beat of an angel’s heart and committing the scent of his cologne to memory. After so many years they had one another memorized, no matter how many forms Crowley took Aziraphale could always track them down. They expected their friend to miracle himself out of the situation or push them away, but instead he relaxed, eyes flickering between Crowley’s eyes to their lips, the demon couldn’t help but smile pressing their body more firmly against the angel’s.

“You’re a demon.”

“So what, I used to be an angel….Still got the wings to prove it.”

Though the wings were battered and black, they hurt each time Crowley spread them out. They were non-functional, only serving as a painful reminder of what the demon once used to be. They were surprised when Aziraphale placed a hand against their back, fingers stroking over the thin material of the black tank top they wore. 

“I was worried I wouldn’t see you again after I gave you the holy water.” He confessed.

“Why’s that?”

“A last resort in case things go poorly, I assumed you knew something I didn’t know. I wasn’t, I’m still not sure I could handle it if I had a hand in helping you destroy yourself.” His words were soft, there was a worried expression on his face that made the demon feel the slightest bit guilty.

They knew when they’d asked that asking for the holy water had been a risk, a high one at that. They’d just hoped Aziraphale would trust them and their reasoning, that it was for a just in case that may never come. The last the demon had heard from their superiors they were pleased as punch with their work on Earth even the times it was for things Crowley hadn’t even had a hand in.

“Nothing to worry about, it’s locked in a safe snug as a bug.” Crowley brought a hand up to his cheek gingerly caressing soft pale skin with the tips of their fingers. The angel relaxed into the demon’s touch, eyes beginning to close. “I wouldn’t let them harm you, not ever.” They whispered.

“You can’t say such things; you don’t know what they would do.”

Crowley leaned their forehead against the other’s. “Think I don’t worry about that all the time when I’m around you? Course I do, Scares me outta my mind….Tell me right now, anybody watching us?” 

Aziraphale closed his eyes concentrating as he scanned around them, Crowley patiently waited. A minute later the angel opened his eyes. “Nobody, it’s just the two of us.”

“See? Told you they just sent you off to busy yourself-goose that’s what it was!” The demon exclaimed smiling brightly.

The angel sighed rolling his eyes, he curled long curling red hair around his index finger his eyes traveling over the demon’s appearance. He wasn’t overly fond of the way the moral majority chose to dress in this era, clothes littered with holes on purpose, high skirts, and boots with ridiculous platforms. He didn’t understand the loud violent music or the thrill the humans got from violent films, but looking at Crowley in their ripped black tank top and obscenely tight black leather pants….The angel was beginning to understand some of the appeal. 

The demon smirked at him seeming to understand where his train of thought was heading, they placed two fingers beneath his chin tilting his head back. “I gotta blend in with the humans y’know.” The demon explained.

Aziraphale swallowed hard as he stared up into the demon’s eyes. The first time he’d seen those eyes they had startled him the slightest bit, but they hadn’t scared or repulsed him. He’d quite enjoyed looking at Crowley’s eyes, looking at the demon in general. Being so suddenly close in contact with them made his heart race, he felt that familiar urge to bolt, but found himself glued to the spot. 

“Think I could tempt you to a kiss?” Crowley asked.

The angel blushed growing flustered, he opened his mouth stammering out something that was meant to be an answer but came out as awkward sounds and letters. Crowley chuckled; the angel glared. Aziraphale placed a hand against the back of Crowley’s neck pulling himself up until his lips pressed against the demon’s in a gentle kiss.


End file.
